


The Enemy of My Enemy and His Sons

by Ti_03



Category: Just Roll With It (Podcast), jrwi
Genre: Blackmail, Br'aad Vengalor - Freeform, Explicit Language, King Rigmund - Freeform, Mountain-JRWI - Freeform, Sylnan Vengalor, Taxi-JRWI - Freeform, Torture, Velrisa-JRWI - Freeform, dnd
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-26
Updated: 2020-04-26
Packaged: 2021-03-01 18:07:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,824
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23851309
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ti_03/pseuds/Ti_03
Summary: It didn't take much to realize the two half-elves in front of him were Brenden's son, especially with Br'aad looking a lot like him. He'll use this to his advantage to get Brenden's head by any means necessary.
Comments: 10
Kudos: 55





	1. The Catch

**Author's Note:**

> This is written purely for the sake of hurting Br'aad. He's just really easy to make angst of so here we are. Enjoy.

Sylnan could already tell that something was off. Other than the fact that he was disgustingly eating his mutton, Sylnan caught many glances from him towards Br’aad and himself. Unsettling would be an understatement to describe it. He watched as his friends signed their names onto the contracts and he rolls his eyes. Even thinking about being ordered around by this gluttonous bastard was enough to want to throw up and then hurl himself out the nearest window. 

“And what about you, boy over there?” He perks his head up, seeing Rigmund still ripping into his mutton. “You haven’t signed yet.” Sylnan looks at the contract in front of him and then at his friends and brother. He notices that all but himself has signed their names. “What do you want? What are your wishes? I can get you something, I mean,” The king chuckles. “We can push pennies here and there. It’s not that hard.”

He grabs the feathered quill and signs his name, or at least anything close to his name, into the contract. “I don’t need anything.” He grumbles. _‘I don’t need his hospitality.’_

The king claps his hands excitedly. “There we are and just like that the five of you are now with me and that’s perfect.” He rolls his eyes at the king. “How was the food? Did you like the food?” He asks.

Br’aad answers first. “It was fantastic, it was perfect.” He says.

Taxi’s moan overlapped with Br’aad’s response. “Oh my god, it was-I’ve never had so much fish in such a long time.” 

“The room is spinning, I feel great.” Mountain holds up his cup of mead. 

Rigmund nods in what seems to be satisfaction. “And on top of that, I’m gonna go ahead and I’m going to let you guys know I’m gonna give you guys the barracks all to yourselves.” He says. “I actually have a smaller barracks I started to build for my hierarchy of my guards, my loyal knights as you call them.” Sylnan hears Br’aad let out a small “what?” at that. “However, you guys can just have that one. I mean, there’s eight beds but I’m sure it’ll fit all of you. There’s plenty of room and you can bring guests.” Okay, maybe he’ll take some of the king’s hospitality. It’s better than sleeping in an alleyway or in that abandoned building he called home. 

He doesn’t pay much attention after that, but he knows that Taxi informed Rigmund about Brenden’s plans to pull a heist on the castle. Rigmund just shrugs it off. “If that’s all,” Rigmund claps his hands and the large double doors open. “You all can go ahead and head back to what you like to do, I’m going to finish all of these leftovers.” the king then informs them about a dining room and makes a comment about Mountain being a “growing boy”. Needless to say, Mountain may have lost a bit of his temper there. 

Sylnan grabs his friend’s shoulder and chuckles nervously, “Okay, let’s go.”

“It was a pleasure talking business with you boys,” he wipes his hands and mouth on his food stained napkin. “I will contact you as soon as I can when we get plans ready to go.”

He waves to them goodbye and they begin making their way out of the dining room. Sylnan sighs in relief. “Finally.” He whispers to Br’aad, a suppressed giggle coming from his younger brother. 

“Oh, wait, you two.” _‘Fuck me._ ’ “The two half-elves, do you two mind staying for a little longer? There are some matters I’d like to speak with you about.”

Sylnan looks over to Taxi and Velrisa, seeing as they’re already almost halfway down the hallway. 

Br’aad turns around to Rigmund. “Uh..sure.” 

Sylnan shrugs to the group and tells them that they’ll meet up with them after. “We’ll be out soon.” 

“We’ll see you at the barracks then.” Vel says. He couldn’t even say anything before the doors shut. A shiver ran down his back. He looked around the room. It was now only himself, Br’aad, Rigmund, and a couple of guards. They were heavily armed with either spears, daggers, or broadswords on their bodies. 

“Come, sit down. We have much to talk about.” He beckons them back to the table. There isn’t much left now except for empty plates and bones from the mutton the large king gorged upon. He and Br’aad sit next to each other, a seat or two away from the king. 

“So,” Br’aad speaks first. “What, uh, what did you want to talk about.”

“Also, can we make this quick? We have some other things to attend to.” Sylnan adds. _‘Also you’re kind of grossing us out.’_

For once since they’ve arrived, Rigmund sets the meat down onto his plate and wipes his hands and mouth on the napkin. “Yes, and I assume that you’re going to meet with your father?” 

He holds down a cough when he chokes on air. He glances over to Br’aad and sees his brother tensing up. “We, we don’t know what you mean.” He stutters. 

“Now, now, don’t lie to your king.” He smirks, grabbing a goblet of ale and taking a long sip. “I know who you two are, it was very obvious with that one.” He points his fat sausage finger to Br’aad. “It made sense once I made the connection. Tell me, does crime run in the family? Is it a family business?” He chuckled. 

“Listen,” Sylnan grits his teeth. “I don’t know what you’re accusing us of, but one thing’s for sure is that we have no connection to Brenden. We both just found out he was our father not too long ago.” 

Br’aad nodded. “I’ve never met him in my life.” He adds.

Rigmund yawns dramatically and sets his goblet down. “Yes, yes, get your lies out now.” 

“Lies?” Br’aad stutters nervously. “No, you have it all wrong. We practically lived our whole lives on the street in poverty, you even said it yourself.”

“But the only way to survive on the streets is to steal and do some odd jobs, correct?” the brothers looked at each other for a moment and then back at the king, nodding slowly. Rigmund’s gross smirk seemed to only get even more unsettling. “Let’s make this easier for both of us, shall we?” He hears clanking behind him and he draws his daggers, standing up fast and knocking his chair back. When he turns around, the head of a spear is pressed into his chest. It’s not penetrating him, but he knows that it’ll be all over in just one wrong move. He looks over to Br’aad and sees two guards covering him: both of them are holding broadswords with one pointed dangerously close to his throat and the other seems to be pressing into his back. 

“What do you want from us, Rigmund?” Sylnan growls, keeping his dagger tight in his hand.

“It’s very simple, my boys.” he says. “Where is he hiding?”

“We don’t fucking know.” He snaps, keeping a close eye on his little brother. “I had an encounter with him, but that was it. He wasn’t very fatherly per se.” He held up his left hand to show his missing pinkie. “I haven’t had a father in years, but I don’t think they chop off a part of your hand.” 

The king looked at him, startled and taken aback. He glances around the hope and the guards are even surprised until they straighten out and go back to their stoic faces. He grinned at Br’aad who grinned back at him. _Maybe,_ just _maybe,_ this is enough to convince them. 

His grin falters not too long after. “Tell me, how much do you care about your brother?”

Sylnan glares and scowls at him. “Don’t.” 

The daggers are knocked out of his hands and the guard punches him square in the jaw. He stumbles back, tripping over a chair leg and landing on the ground. The spear is held at his chest again. He glares at them but his attention is focused on Br’aad when he sees one of the guards grab his wrist, twisting them so that they’re on his back, and force him down. Br’aad’s face is contorted in pain while the emotionless guard straddling and pinning him down raises the hilt of the broadsword and slams it into his brother’s skull. 

Br’aad isn’t struggling anymore and his blonde bangs are covering most of his face. 

“It pains me to see that we had to do this the hard way.” Rigmund sighs. Sylnan has never wanted to stab someone so bad in his life. The obese king claps his greasy hands and orders, “Take them down to the dungeons. Separate cages, but close enough that one can see the other.” The guards are already handcuffing his wrists behind him and forcing him up. “Oh, the blonde one, drug him. Can’t have him escaping now.” 

Sylnan struggles against the guard’s hold and digging his heels into the shiny floor. “We don’t fucking know anything, you bastard!” He snaps.

He hears him chuckle again and he just wants to cut Rigmond’s tongue right there and them. “The less you struggle, the colder the water will be my boy.” He leaves the room with wide eyes and the guards dragging him and Br’aad out of the room.


	2. Hydration is Not Key

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maybe he'll stay away from water for awhile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't you just love the sweet sound of your favorite character's screams?

Br’aad lost consciousness when something hard knocked violently against his skull. He didn’t fade in and out of consciousness, black dots didn’t start covering his surroundings. He was just fast asleep. 

_ How does he know this? Because Ob’nockshai was standing in front of him with a saucer and cup in his hands. Br’aad didn’t recognize where they were, but that was beside the point now. “Is this another game of yours?” He asked the deity. Annoyingly, he takes a long, drawn out sip of tea or whatever a deity drinks.  _

_ “If it was my own game, then we wouldn’t be here now would we?” He sets the cup back on the saucer and whisks it away with a flick of his wrist. “However, this is quite fun to watch. I’d love to see what happens to you and your brother.”  _

_ He feels something strike him on the head from behind and he drops to his knees, grunting and wincing in pain. He puts a hand on where the pain was throbbing, feeling through the hair and finding a large bump beginning to form. “What the fuck?” He mumbles through clenched teeth.  _

_ Ob’nockshai chuckles and he looks up. He’s leaning forward, still managing to tower above him with a damn smirk on his face. “A little advice for you when you wake up: don’t die so soon, I still have many games for you to play.” _

* * *

Cold water splashes on his face, waking up instantly. He feels it get into his ears and up his nose. It burns his throat and he immediately begins to cough. When he tries to cover his mouth with his hands, there’s something tugging him and holding his arms to his side. He looks at his body and there’s chains wrapped around his torso. His hands are completely covered with metal, making it look like he had metal stubs for hands. It was like putting his hand in a bucket but the bucket decided to never let his hands go so now he’s sweating and uncomfortable. His nose and throat burned from the water but he finally stopped coughing. Not to mention the back of his head was aching and throbbing.

“Br’aad!” He looks up to see Sylnan in a cell across from him, chains around his wrist and securing them above his head. He’s stripped of his cape and he can barely see a long cut across his cheek. “Hang in there, buddy, alright?”

Br’aad hears a metal clank next to him and a sudden tug at the back of his shirt. He looks up and sees a female, half-elf guard. Not much can be said to describe her other than the guard helmet covering most of her face. “Report to the king that the prisoner is awake.” She orders whoever is outside of the cell. “And get the water.” Br’aad sees two guards salute to the half-elf female, “yes ma’am” her, and then run offl. 

“What’re we doing here?” He questions her. She doesn’t answer or even give him a slight glance. “If this is about Brenden, we really don’t know anything about him. We’ve never worked with him, right Sylnan?” He looks over to his brother and smiles. He doesn’t expect to see him look like he’s just been punched in the gut and then looking down at his lap. Br’aad’s smile drops immediately. “R-right Sylnan..?” He stutters nervously. 

He hears a scoff from her. “Like father like sons.” She grumbled. 

A few servants barge into the cell he’s in with buckets and buckets. They splash and slosh inside when they’re set down to the side. The lady picks him up with a small grunt and he’s now sitting in a chair. “What’re you going to do to me?” He asked her. She slaps him across the cheek, swift and sharp. 

“Silence. The king is coming.” She growls. Great, as if his head wasn’t already hurting. Now his cheek is stinging and he feels like his head just got knocked off. 

True to her word, he hears heavy footsteps coming towards the cells. Rigmund waddles into his cell, smiling at him like they were old friends. “Did you enjoy your calm before the storm?” He asked. 

“Not really, I don’t think it’s very calming here.” He says.

Rigmund chuckles. “Yes, but this is all necessary.”

“The hell it is.” Sylnan barks. 

The king turns around to look at his brother and says, “That’s not a way to talk to your king. Maybe we should put you in your place, boy.” 

The chair suddenly leans back fast and a cloth or towel is pressed to his face. He feels water soak into the cloth. He’s now screaming and struggling. His breathing is now rapid and fast, but it doesn’t help. He’s starting to breathe and inhale some water, coughing up sometimes. 

The cloth is then taken off and the chair is leveled. He’s gasping, coughing, and wheezing. He can’t tell if he’s crying because of how wet his face is. 

“You bastards!” he hears Sylnan shout. Chains rattle and grunting follows. “If you still think we’re working with Brenden, then you’re clearly delusional. For all I care, he can die!” 

The cloth is back on his face and it’s round two. However, the water being poured on him burns. Whatever doesn’t get on the cloth burns any skin available. He continues screaming, muffled by the cloth. It feels like an hour before they take it off and he’s finally allowed to breathe. His scalp that was burned is stinging and there are several places on his face that feels like it’s hotter than it should. “I would watch your tongue when you’re answering me.” Rigmund threatens. 

“Stop, he doesn’t know anything about Brenden. You should be questioning me, not him.” 

Round three initiates. It’s funny how he can hear a distant laugh as he’s screaming and struggling. 

He stopped listening to them after round five. He was now soaked in water and he’s pretty sure that his face and most of his scalp has been burned. 

“I don’t think your brother can take another. He might pass out or actually drown.” he hears Rigmund chuckle.  _ Fucking sadist. _

“I don’t know what to tell you.” Sylnan sounds desperate. He weakly looks up to see his brother scowling and glaring at the king. He’s tugging on the restraints but they’re holding him tightly against the wall. 

Br’aad coughs and gasps, “I can take it..”

He should just keep his mouth sewed shut. It’s time for round six. 

* * *

Sylnan continued pulling at the chains above him as he watched Br’aad being drowned by buckets of water. He can hear his muffled screams and his legs flailing around. He’s lost count of how many times they’ve waterboarded him, but anytime he tells them that they know nothing, they tilt him back and drown him. What choice does he have? Let his little brother pass out and drown because he doesn’t have any information on their father? Not the most favorable. 

They push the chair up and Br’aad falls onto the floor, coughing and wheezing.

Rigmund  looks at him with that damned smirk. “Still being so stubborn? Maybe we’re not doing enough.” The fat king leaves the cell as the guard who was just waterboarding him grabs his brother and throws him over their shoulders like a sack. “He’ll be back in a few hours. Maybe I’ll have better luck with him than you.” Sylnan watches as they leave with his brother and him yelling out countless curses. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the crappy chapter, I'm not exactly feeling very well but I really wanted to get this out because I'm really into it.


End file.
